


Those Who Were Chained

by VerdiWithin



Series: Talisman [54]
Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Explicit Sex, F/M, Heavy Angst, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26231497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdiWithin/pseuds/VerdiWithin
Summary: Persephone and Hades go on a quest to find something that will aid the mortals.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Series: Talisman [54]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1497371
Comments: 35
Kudos: 159





	Those Who Were Chained

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Readers,
> 
> Separation is the very essence of Hades and Persephone's story--it was inevitable from the beginning. I do promise you it will get better. This year is a neverending storm of awfulness, and all of our reserves are at a low point. If you're not doing your best, might I suggest waiting to read this until 55 and 56 are published? If you choose to go on, welcome. Please know that I love these characters, and I won't let them down. Or you.
> 
> Previously in this series: 
> 
> Demeter has brought Winter to the Mortal Realm, so Persephone is working hard to feed the mortals and keep them alive. 

I’m plowing through work in hopes of freeing part of my afternoon to spend with Persephone in the Mortal Realm. She keeps resolving to pry herself away, to create some emotional distance, but the suffering of the mortals draws her back again and again. Another hour of putting out fires and I’m out of here. 

My PA steps into my office and stands with his back to the door, looking tense. He’s probably bearing the brunt of my short temper these days. I should give him a bonus.

“What is it?” I ask, trying to keep my tone mild.

“Sir, there’s a very upset satyr here. He doesn’t have an appointment but he says he’s a friend and only wants a few minutes?”

“What’s his name?”

“He said it was Marsyas.”

I should have guessed. Marsyas is an old friend I’ve recently reconnected with. We had dinner with him a few weeks ago, and it was a pleasant evening. I hope this isn’t him hitting me up for a loan or something like that.

“Thank you, Epimelis. You can send him in.”

I straighten up the folders on my desk and rise when the scarred satyr comes in. He looks just this side of panic, and launches into an explanation without any preliminaries.

“Listen, friend, some very weird shit just happened. I was sitting in my cave, minding my own business, and I got a visitor. I almost never get visitors, but the worst part is, it was Demeter! Can you imagine?”

I can all too easily imagine. I suspect I know what this means. “What did she say?”

“Um. Well,  _ please _ don’t take it out on me, but she offered me money to seduce her daughter.” Marsyas's eyes are wide, and he looks ready to run if I show signs of violence. His history would naturally make him skittish.

I nod calmly. Demeter as much as admitted she would try again. “So what did you do?”

“I took the money and came straight here. To see you, I mean, not to do what she said! Look, we’re friends--but I can’t afford to get caught up in a conflict between the gods. Last time that happened I lost my skin!”

“I know that.” I make calming motions with my hands, for his benefit as well as mine. Persephone isn't susceptible to this sort of temptation, so why worry? I wonder what made Demeter select this particular man. Does she know we're friends? Perhaps this is meant specifically to rattle me.

My introspection unnerves Marsyas. “Please don’t look at me like you want to flay me!” he cries.

“It’s Demeter I want to flay. What is your plan now?”

“Um, I was hoping you would offer me a place to hide out? I swear, I came straight to you! Persephone was very nice to me that time we had dinner but I don’t have any illusions! That goddess adores you.”

The back door into my office swings open and Persephone bursts in. “Surprise! I came to drag you off for lunch and maybe pollinate my flowers?” She stops short on seeing my visitor, wincing in embarrassment. “Oh, hello Marsyas. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Ma’am.”

He’s sweating profusely, his eyes shifting nervously between me and my wife. Terror pours out of him in waves. I hold out my hand to Persephone and she approaches, but her eyes are full of concern. She takes my arm and looks up at me for an explanation.

“Sweetness, I’m sorry to say, your mother’s at it again. She tried to hire Marsyas.”

“Oh, another suitor to bring me back to the light?” She raises an eyebrow and her lip curls: half in amusement, half in anger. 

Marsyas holds up both hands, ready to fend off an attack. “I didn’t come here to start something! I just wanted to tell you. Do you want the money? You can have it!”

"Of course not. I appreciate your courage in telling us,” I say, trying to soothe him. “Would you like a job? Someplace to ride out the bad weather?”

“Oh, yes!” Persephone says, with gentle enthusiasm. She’s perfectly willing to help a friend. “Your usual work is tending a river, the Kataraktes, isn’t it? Elysium could use some help with irrigation. Growing food crops requires very different water management than its original purpose and I haven’t had much time to devote to it.”

I make a little  _ there-you-go _ gesture to my friend. He glances back and forth between us, and finally takes a deep breath. “You are both very generous. It’s more than I deserve.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Persephone responds. “And anyway, we have a common bond, don’t we?” 

Her mouth firms into a grim line. When we all had dinner, we spent some time comparing notes on a certain shitty little sun god. It was a relief for all three of us, and the first time outside of therapy I’ve heard my wife start to open up about her trauma.

Marsyas nods slowly. “I am very sorry for this. I hope you won't be insulted, but I had to think long and hard about who I most fear in this situation.”

“It was very brave of you. I wouldn't have blamed you if you'd just run off to hide, instead,” Persephone says.

She's in full empathy-mode. I wonder, does Marsyas mean he fears Demeter, or us? An ambiguity probably better left unresolved. It seems a bit strange to me, that Demeter thinks this craggy, scarred, emotionally-damaged old satyr holds the formula for tempting Persephone. 

“Why don’t you come along with us to lunch? You could use some time to vent, I think,” Persephone says. She smiles charmingly and won’t accept Marsyas’s protests. 

I add my voice to encouraging him. I would really have preferred the alone time that my wife and I separately plotted for, but this situation needs to be addressed. The three of us exit the office together, chatting about lighter things. I’m gripped by the urge to do something drastic over this, but I can't see a target. Marsyas doesn’t deserve it, and Demeter won't see me.

There’s nothing I can do, anyway. Demeter will doubtless keep setting lures in Persephone’s path, and accepting one of them is absolutely her choice.

***

One thing I  _ can _ do is check on my information sources. This afternoon I have a planned meeting anyway, which is excellent timing. I'm taking a risk by visiting Sicily, Demeter’s home turf. If I'm caught, it's a direct challenge and sure to piss her off. I could wear my helmet, but frankly I don't care very much. I'd prefer a confrontation to sneaking and backstabbing, except for the pain it would cause Persephone.

Cyane's directions are quite clear, and I have no difficulty finding the tranquil blue-green pool. When the weather was better, this must have been an exquisite spot. Now, the trees are bare, the flowers withered, the grasses dry and brittle. I sit down on a nearby rock to wait.

I suppose that all the local dryads and flower nymphs staying in Elysium reduces the chances I'll be seen. It isn't long before the naiad appears. Her skin and hair match her pool. A smug smile crosses her face when she sees me.

“You were right,” she says. “I told a story about my husband straying, and Demeter ate it up. She welcomed me back with open arms.”

“Excellent. Have you learned anything?”

“I think it’s too soon for me to be trusted with the locations of her grain caches, but I’m poking around to figure out which of her subordinates knows. It’ll be easier to find out from them.”

“That makes sense.”

“There are rumors amongst her people about Persephone being unhappy with you. They’re just clumsy lies, but I thought you’d want to hear about it.”

“Any specific reason?”

She shrugs. “You’re _ you? _ They don’t seem to need another reason, they take it as a given. They assume that you can’t possibly be faithful to her, of course.”

I sigh. “Yeah. There’s a reason I thought Demeter would believe that story.”

“There was one incident that might interest you. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.”

“Go on?”

“There were two visitors, and they stood out because they were male. That’s unusual in Demeter’s compound.”

“Gods?”

“No, a pair of satyrs. One was tall and greenish, with horns, and the shorter one was young, gray-brown with big ears and curly hair. I heard them talking about ‘the deepest place’ and how they were going to manage to find something and not anger Demeter with another failure. They were agitated.” 

The deepest place? That strikes a chord, as does the description. It’s definitely something I’ve heard before. I frown a little in thought, and then remember that Cyane is waiting.

“That’s a good lead, thank you. Is there anything you need from me?”

“No. You already promised to care for my sister nymphs. This chance to get even with Demeter for what she’s done is all I want.”

***

I transfer to the huge cave system where Thanatos had the base of operations for his rebellion: Vathia, the Deep Place. I’m braced to find evidence of a new conspiracy here, but the sound of my footsteps echoes in the empty cavern. I shine my phone light around, and there’s nothing at all to see. 

I spot the entry tunnel where Persephone stood with Cerberus behind her. I smile at the memory, her holding my bident, glowing with anger. I find the ring of stones surrounding a heap of black ashes that marks the conspirators’ campfire. There are still bits of food wrappers and bottles scattered on the ground. I scowl. Someone should take care of that.

I transfer up to the little niche above the cave floor. I hit my head again, just as I did when Persephone summoned me to witness Thanatos’s treacherous plan. There’s nothing here, either. I suppose this is not the location of the “deepest place” that Cyane mentioned. It was a long shot, anyway.

Still, her description of the two satyrs--they could definitely be Avin and Triamus. I think. I have to admit I don’t remember Avin well, but Triamus had the second, more recent trial and I can picture him. He’s a good fit for the smaller satyr. They could very possibly be working for Demeter.

***

Persephone and I plan another lunch date on one of the days she spends in the Underworld, catching up on her projects here. She’s trying once again to pull back from the Mortal Realm, and I have mixed feelings about her decision. The endless suffering and death is draining her, but on the other hand, it’s not like she can actually get away from it here. Sitting in judgment on the endless stream of mortal dead means that inevitably she feels compelled to prevent their deaths, with an added burden of guilt. 

I’m making the most of today, at least. I’ve ordered a luxurious lunch from a favorite place of ours, and I’m setting the table in my office. I wonder if I should have ordered flowers? It seems odd to order flowers when my wife can make them. Wait-- I remember something. I have the perfect decoration. 

I kept the little Pomelia flower she made for me, and had it pressed under glass and framed. I’m a little embarrassed to display something so sentimental, so I keep this treasure in a desk drawer. I set it up on the table as a centerpiece. I’m just making final adjustments when Persephone steps in from the central reception room.

“There’s a guy in the waiting room. Says his name is Menoetes?” she says. She sounds annoyed, which I can easily believe. That guy’s pretty abrasive.

“ _ Ugh. _ Yeah, I guess I’d better talk to him. I’m sorry, Sweetness, are you very hungry?”

“No, I can wait.”

She picks up the mug of tea I made for her and sits down on the couch. I cross to the door and open it.

“Hello, Menoetes. Come in.”

He enters, looking disgruntled and just as thin and scraggly as ever. He glares daggers at Persephone, but she’s playing it cool. She sips her tea and pointedly ignores him. Something’s going on here. 

“Look,” he snaps, clenching his fists. “I know you’re a busy god, but surely you don’t approve of secretaries treating visitors with open disrespect! Even if you are screwing her.”

I freeze, gripped with cold rage. My eyes narrow and my jaw clicks. Persephone sips her tea again, and squares her shoulders. Clearly this bullshit doesn’t surprise her. “The goddess you speak of so contemptuously is your Queen,” I grate out. I hold out my hand to her. “My wife. Persephone?” 

She sets down her cup and rises from the couch to come rest her hand in mine, light as a feather.

“We weren’t properly introduced,” she says, in sweet tones of false sincerity. She is  _ pissed, _ I realize. “Since you’re in such a hurry, you must have  _ very _ important news.”

The guardian of the far boundaries snorts and jerks his head. He focuses on me. “Yes, it  _ is _ important. Are you aware that Kronos's blood has been flowing all this time, down into the dark crevices of the Earth? Or did you figure chopping him into pieces was enough to be rid of him forever?”

“That was my brothers' doing.” Though I know that's a weak excuse. I should have checked. I was too distracted by preparing to propose to Persephone, and her disappearance, and best of all the joy of actually being married to her.

“Oh, well, if it's their fault, then I'm sure they'll be the ones dealing with the resulting monster incursions?” Menoetes already knows the answer to that.

Persephone looks rather shocked, so I pat her hand in reassurance. “All right, I get it,” I say to the guardian. “I've neglected your boundary. Is the danger imminent?”

“A Titan king's blood flowing like a cursed stream? Who knows? All I can say is it makes me very fucking nervous.”

“Okay. I'll come in a day or two, will that do? I'm sorry to say we do have a few other crises going on.”

“So I heard. Just know, if the mistakes of the Ancient Ones wake up, things could get a lot worse than some starving mortals.”

Menoetes gives me a last glance, and a more serious look to Persephone. “Ma'am. Your loyal subject.” He ducks his head awkwardly, and then stomps from my office.

I raise my eyebrows. “You may not believe me, but that's the most deferential I've ever seen him. I think he likes you.”

Her face is already registering surprise, so she merely shakes her head. “Do you take his warning seriously?”

I hold out her chair and wait for her to sit at the lunch table, then seat myself. I think it over while we serve ourselves.

“Well, I can't think of any similar situations, but I've never known Menoetes to be an alarmist, or anything other than conscientious.”

“And rude?”

“Yeah, that too. I suppose I can send some people to look it over until I can get down there.”

“Do you have to go yourself?” Persephone asks. Her eyes are full of anxiety.

“It's my responsibility,” I tell her gently. “And not the first time I've had to face this fear.”

“I know. And I know you  _ can. _ It just seems like you shouldn't have to.”

“You shouldn’t have to be the one to pick up your mother’s mess, either. But who else will do it?”

Persephone nods and eats thoughtfully for a minute. “Well, anyway, I’ll go with you.”

I draw breath to forbid it but Persephone’s expression stops me. She looks--almost devastated. She knows I don’t want her in danger. She knows my fears. She’s put up with an entire lifetime of being smothered by my generation. She could argue that supporting me, professionally and personally, is her clear duty. She would be right. I nod to acknowledge all the things she doesn’t say.

“Let’s see if others can fix it, first. I’d rather not have to bother going myself.” 

“All right. That’s reasonable.”

We eat our lunch, catching up on news of our friends and other matters of mutual interest. I feel somehow that I should make up for Menoetes’s mistake. I hate that my history makes it plausible for someone to mistake my lovely Queen for a mere office fling. She deserves so much better.

***

The next day, Persephone and I are headed down to the courtroom together, all decked out in our finery and crowns. She takes this duty very seriously, even if she’s been too busy to attend court on many days lately. She holds my arm and listens attentively while I babble on about various business issues, but I can see she has something to say. I force myself to shut up.

She smiles at me, recognizing that I made an effort. “I got a call from Amphitrite this morning.”

“Something that can’t wait for your next lunch date?”

“Yes. She finally got some concrete information about the Cornucopia. It seems the nymph who found it was Ceto, remember her?”

“Oh, that aggressive sea nymph we ran into?”

“The very one. So, apparently, once she understood that Triton really wanted this information, she wouldn’t give it, because she was holding out until  _ he _ gave her what  _ she _ wanted. Which was some kind of firm commitment.”

“Really? I guess she didn’t learn her lesson, then.”

“Well, at least she’s using better tactics. Anyway, Amphitrite didn’t announce a wedding or anything, so I guess they worked it out.”

“And what happened to the Cornucopia?” I’m amused that Persephone got distracted by the grimy details of family gossip.

“Oh right! She traded it to Hephaestus.”

“Excellent. Shall we go right after court?”

“What a marvelous idea, Smush. I knew I could count on you.”

***

We waste no time after court. Our clothes are a bit formal, but at least we leave our crowns behind. We transfer to Hephaestus’s volcanic island, and emerge just outside the doors into his workshop. Today we’re not expected, so no automaton waits for us. Persephone takes my hand as we walk down the short tunnel, despite the rising heat. I can’t say I mind. These days, I’ll take whatever crumbs of affection she can spare for me.

Inside, the shop is a whirlwind of activity. Automata are moving about, carrying supplies and tools. Several forges are in use, cyclops assistants hammering away at their anvils. Sparks fly and the clang of metal on metal assaults our ears. I spot my honorary nephew over near one of the forges. He’s watching a cyclops at work, occasionally giving a comment or direction.

We move over to a spot where he can see us, and I wave to attract his attention. Hephaestus turns to see us, his face lighting up with a grin. He approaches and gestures for us to follow him, which we do. He leads us to a workspace that’s clearly his alone. Away from the forges, the noise is somewhat diminished.

“Hello, dear Auntie and Uncle. I haven’t had a chance to offer my congratulations on your wedding.” He grins with genuine pleasure, kisses Persephone’s cheek, then gives me a back-pounding hug. “Uncle, did you ever figure out what’s happening with the volcanoes? Because I think it’s still going on.”

“No. I’ve looked, but I’ve only seen vague signs of some kind of unrest. Do you have any more details you can share?”

He shrugs. “No, sorry. I know it’s not very helpful. Just a feeling I have.”

“You work much more closely with the volcanic system than I do. I trust your instincts.” Which means I really have to carve out the time to investigate this more closely. Somehow.

“I hear you two are ridiculously busy,” Hephaestus goes on. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

Persephone smiles. “We were hoping you might have some information on an object that used to belong to my mother. It’s a big horn that makes food.”

“Oh, that thing? Ceto gave it to me. I studied it for ages, couldn’t figure it out. I think I traded it away again.”

“With whom?” Persephone asks. She’s keeping her calm remarkably well, although I know how eager she is to get this thing.

“Um… a pair of nymphs, if I remember correctly. I can’t remember them well. It’s been a while.”

“Can you remember what kind of nymphs?” I ask. At least that might narrow it down.

“Mmm… definitely not tree or flower. Or water.”

“What does that leave?” Persephone shakes her head in confusion.

“Beats me. Oh, they were blue. And tall.”

Blue nymphs aren’t that rare; some water nymphs can be blue. Perhaps my nephew is mistaken about their classification?

“I’m sorry to be pushy, but it’s important,” Persephone says. “Can you remember anything else?”

“Hmm… they were kind of strange, now I think about it. Only one of them spoke, and they had weird eyes. Full of sparks or something.”

Something he said stirs a vague memory in me. One of those things that will ripen in time and wake me in the middle of the night, I’m sure. “Thanks for your help. We do appreciate it.”

Hephaestus nods. “I’m sorry I couldn’t remember more. Would you like to see your gift, Auntie? It’s nearly ready.”

Persephone blinks, pretending she’d forgotten. I know she really hasn’t--she asked me several times if I knew anything about it. “Oh! Yes, that would be lovely,” she says.

Hephaestus gestures us over to a workbench. A heavy cloth covers most of it, and he lifts this with a flourish.

“There you are!” he says. “Your personal emblem.” 

It’s gorgeous. It’s a mace made of black enamel chased with gold, its shape reminiscent of a torch. The head is carved rose quartz, and it’s possible to interpret the shape as a flame or a pomegranate. I’m stunned by its simplicity and beauty.

Persephone is speechless. One hand goes to her mouth and the other reaches tentatively to touch it. “This--this is amazing!” she whispers.

I slip my arm around her and kiss the top of her head. She’s quivering with emotion.

“You like it?” Hephaestus asks, a little anxiously. “Athena and I worked on the design together. It’s not too late to make changes, if you want.”

“It’s perfect!” she gasps. A couple of tears fall. I squeeze her gently. “I didn’t expect this at all!”

“You’ve outdone yourself this time,” I say. “I’m very impressed.”

He gives us an easy grin. “Well, it’s not every day I conceive a child. And not every day I get a new aunt, either.”

“I don’t even know how to thank you,” Persephone says, wiping her tears away.

Hephaestus shrugs awkwardly, smiling like he’s pleased with her reaction.

“What work remains to be done?” I ask. It looks complete to me.

“Oh, you know me, Uncle. I always want to fuss with things a little longer. The curse of being a perfectionist.”

Persephone and I both laugh. 

“For this, I can wait as long as necessary,” she says. “I will be proud to bear your work.”

A familiar figure walks into Hephaestus’s workspace and hands each of us a water bottle.

“What are you doing here?” Persephone asks, startled.

“This is part of my punishment,” Eiliethyia replies. “I have to spend all my free time working for my siblings.”

I’m a bit surprised. I thought Zeus’s anger for his damaged temple would have been more dramatic. I guess he’s taking it easy on his daughter, but I wonder if Hermes was less lucky.

Hephaestus giggles. “Coulda been a lot worse, Sis.”

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have to thread Athena’s loom.”

“No… but maybe I could invent something to help with that.” His eyes take on a faraway look as he contemplates the idea.

“What about Hermes?” I ask. “He’s been coming to work.”

“Yeah, he’s just under house arrest for his free time. Freaking double standard!” Eileithyia snaps. “But we’re also supposed to raise the money to fix Dad’s temple, and I don’t know how we’re gonna do that.”

“Huh.” Overlapping, contradictory punishments sound more like my brother, honestly. “Well, come talk to me when you have a moment. We’ll work something out.”

“Oh, Uncle Hades, you’re a lifesaver!” Eileithyia cries. “I promise, I’ll never do anything this stupid again.”

Persephone and Hephaestus both beam at me.

***

We return to work just in time for the daily status meeting, and find Hecate waiting in Persephone’s office.

“Where were you two?” she asks, not raising her eyes from her phone. “Up to your usual shenanigans?”

Persephone ignores this teasing. “We went to see Hephaestus. Still chasing up leads on my mother’s Cornucopia.”

“Ah!” Hecate says. “Any luck?” 

I’ve discussed this quest with my friend before. She and I agree that the object is probably lost.

“He gave it to a pair of nymphs. Tall, blue ones, with sparks in their eyes. I can’t think why that seems so familiar,” Persephone replies.

Hecate sits forward suddenly, intently focused.  _ “I _ know what nymphs he meant. Those are the Lampades he described.”

“Dammit! Of course that’s who they are. I can’t believe I didn’t make that connection!” I say.

“They’ve never had much interest in you, so I can understand why you didn’t think of them right away.”

“Those nymphs who spoke to me at the coronation party, that’s who you mean?” Persephone asks. “They said they would see me again.”

“Fantastic,” I grumble. “They couldn’t just give you the damned thing when they were up here, and save everyone a lot of trouble?”

Hecate smirks. “Nothing ever works like that, and you know it.”

“They might not even still have it,” Persephone says. “I suppose I’ll have to ask them. Where can I find them, Hecate?”

“They inhabit dark places, in isolation. In the far depths of the Underworld.”

Persephone’s eyes seek mine, and I know what she’s thinking. She wants to go. First Cyane’s hint, then Menoetes’s news, now this lead on the Lampades. All signs seem to indicate that a visit to the reaches beyond Tartarus is necessary.

Fucking wonderful.

There is no chance I can convince Persephone to stay behind, where it’s safe. If I went alone, she would never forgive me. It’s better that I resign myself to it and stay vigilant. For that matter, no one in all the realms will watch my back more attentively than my wife. 

“It all fits together,” I say. “Since I needed to check on the Kronos blood situation anyway.”

“What is this now?” Hecate asks.

I explain, and watch her expression grow more and more alarmed. 

“You don't see this as an urgent situation?” she asks.

“Not really, but now that I think about it I was probably in denial because I don't want to go.”

Hecate glances at Persephone, who nods firmly. “We'll all go.”

***

I’m amused that Persephone’s idea of proper gear for this expedition is the black outfit the Furies gave her. I can’t fault her for it; it’s practical and comfortable, even if it stirs me in ways that are poorly timed at best. I follow her lead and change into my own armor and short chiton. This is wiser than venturing down into Tartarus in a business suit again. At least this time, I’m prepared for the conflict that is probably inevitable.

Hecate meets up with us in the elevator of Tower Four. She’s busy checking for any news updates that we might need to know.

Persephone catches me looking at her and raises an eyebrow in inquiry.

“Damn,” I murmur. “You don’t wear that for _ me.” _

She smiles, delighted. “Oh, you want me to?”

“ _ Hell _ yes.”

I try to keep my voice pitched just for her, but apparently I failed.

“Can you two  _ please _ focus?” Hecate snaps, looking up from her phone. “This is a very serious situation!”

It’s her nerves making her say that. There’s not a thing we can do at the moment. I inhale a familiar scent, the dizzyingly rich combination of earthy aromas that Persephone exudes when she has her period. It always affects me deeply, with overwhelming surges of arousal. This time the feeling is just as profound, but it’s combined with a horrible stab of misery. I hadn’t realized it was coming. Usually I know, because of other cues, or because she tells me. Not so this time.

I’ve been too far removed from her, because of her work and mine. I can’t let that go on. We need to find some way forward that allows us to still have a life together.

“It’s weird that we have to go up in order to go down again,” Persephone says.

The elevator ride seems to be taking forever. “Yeah. I wanted the entrance to be harder to reach. Although that makes it more difficult for emergencies.”

She nods and doesn’t comment on other emergencies that have brought me to Tartarus. We finally emerge at the hundredth floor of Tower Four. I hold open the heavy door for Persephone and Hecate, and follow them through the portal into Tartarus.

To save time, we decide to fly down to the lower reaches. This isn’t a security inspection, or a tour to make sure Persephone understands the worst of my realm. We won’t be seeing the garden spots of Tartarus today. We follow the course of the Phlegethon and in only a few minutes, we’re hovering above the pit. Far below us is the lake of fire, and waves of sickly heat buffet us, even from this distance.

Persephone and Hecate are both eyeing me cautiously. I know what they’re thinking. I don’t want to go down there. But I will, because I have to. The hot air rising from the fire lake pushes against my feet and lifts the edge of my chiton as I let myself descend. In my peripheral vision my Queen and my friend are dropping too, keeping on my flanks, at a nicely calculated distance. Just close enough to be ready to help if I need, not so close to make me feel feeble. I must look really awful if they're both being so vigilant.

It takes several minutes to reach the bottom, and I use the time to scan the lakeshore. Poseidon said he and Zeus distributed our father's dismembered parts around the lake, as far apart as possible. That matches what I see. Legs here, arms there--I pick my landing point near the head, though being close to any part of  _ him _ makes my stomach churn.

As we approach, I notice that all the parts are bleeding freely. Thick rivers of golden ichor flow from Kronos's body, just as Menoetes reported. I touch down a few paces behind the head. To my sides, I hear the soft sounds of the others’ landings. Hecate immediately walks nearer, circling around to get a better look at the face.

Persephone takes a few steps and stops. She angles towards me but doesn't try to touch me. I want to close my eyes, deny the reality of what I see. I can't do it. My heart is pounding and I can't draw a full breath. 

“Hades,” Persephone murmurs. “You're having a panic attack. Try to breathe, dearest.”

I make some sort of sound. I can't identify it. I’m clammy with sweat, and shaking.

Persephone moves so that she's right in front of me, and lifts her hands, hovering them just over mine. “Hades? Listen to my voice. I’m here. You’re safe, and I’m safe too. It’s okay. He can’t do anything to us.”

I lift my hands to touch hers and she latches onto me firmly, stepping closer so her face fills my field of vision. “I know. You’re right,” I whisper.

I concentrate on her. The feeling of her hands, the look in her eyes. 

“It’s okay. I know how hard this is. I’m scared too.”

She placed herself between me and my father. She knows how awful he is, but she turned her back on him in order to focus on me. I swallow down the lump in my throat and get my breathing under control.

I squeeze Persephone’s hand. “Let’s get this over with.”

She stays close to my side as we circle around Kronos’s decapitated head. Hecate is standing in front of his face, arms folded, staring at him. She looks disgusted and strained. I force myself to look at my father. The last time I saw him, I didn’t hesitate. Protecting Persephone was so instinctive, there was no thought necessary. I just did it.

This time, I’ve chosen to face him. Cold sweat drips down my neck, trailing down my spine. It’s all I can do not to run, or perhaps attack. Neither one would serve any purpose.

“Well, he’s certainly bleeding a lot,” Hecate observes. “I have to agree with Menoetes, this could be a disaster. I’ve heard of other cases of hemogenesis.”

Kronos’s eyes are half-open, filmed over with cloudy white. His mouth is slack and he looks dead, but I trust that appearance not one iota.

“So stopping the blood would be the first step to containment?” Persephone asks.

“Yeah, seems like the best move. Then maybe we can figure out if this blood flowing for the past couple months has already caused a problem,” Hecate replies.

Persephone notices the huge metal rings embedded in the rock of the wall nearby, and the attached length of broken chain. In addition, there are remnants of links littering the ground, some of them so old they’re rusting away.

“How long did they last?” Persephone asks, pointing.

“Um… almost a century this time, wasn’t it?” I look to Hecate.

“Are you kidding? It was just over fifty years. You seriously forgot the last time?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to.”

Persephone looks shocked. 

“It’s not that bad, honey,” Hecate explains. “Every few decades his chains weaken, but there are lots of protocols. We get warnings in plenty of time and replace them. He only got out last time because he had help.”

“It’s unpleasant because he talks, not because he gets free,” I add.

“That… sounds  _ awful, _ ” Persephone says. Her eyes are full of concern.

“It is.” I can’t downplay this. She’s been woken by my nightmares many times, and knows the depth of my pain. Although, now I think about it--I haven’t had a true nightmare about Kronos since Persephone and I took him down. That’s interesting.

I become aware of an awful, ominous hissing sound. That’s new and different--and I don’t like unexpected things, not down here. I look out over the fire lake, wondering what could be causing it. The other Titans are much farther down from where we are, bound with their own chains. It’s very unlikely they could get free, but the possibility of awakening monsters is why we’re here.

I don’t see any movement, but then I feel Persephone’s tight grip on my arm. 

“That sound,” she whispers. “It’s  _ him.” _

I turn toward the head and see immediately that she’s right. My father’s mouth is moving, ever so slightly. His eyes have a sense of focus they didn’t have when we arrived.

“My s-s-s-s-son…” he breathes.

I want to curse and howl. I want to run. I don’t. I stand my ground, feeling the deep chill of transformation flooding my skin. I hate that my fear of him makes me change to look  _ more  _ like him.

Persephone and Hecate exchange a glance, and then they move as one. They close ranks between me and my father, shoulder to shoulder, facing him. They fold their arms and I can tell they’re both glaring.

“Shut up, you old bastard,” Hecate says. “No one wants to hear from you anymore. You’re irrelevant.”

“Huh… huh… huh…” Kronos makes an odd noise, deep and slow. It takes me a long moment to understand the sound as laughter. “This l-l-little one--she your wife?”

He’s speaking to me as an ordinary father might. As if he has the right.

“You don’t get to talk to him, you monster,” Persephone snarls. 

“Ah! Sh-she is.”

I can feel the heat pouring out of Persephone and I have no trouble interpreting her mood. Hecate looks at her in some alarm. I start to move, to walk around to see better, but Persephone acts first. 

“I don’t think you heard me,” she says, anger making her voice ring. “I said don’t talk to him!”

A thicket of roots bursts from the rocky beach where we’re standing. They whip in the air for a moment, then lash out to engulf Kronos. Persephone concentrates them around the stump of his neck, and in a few moments the wound is sufficiently covered to stop all the bleeding. The pace of the roots’ twining slows down as Persephone moves to check her work.

“Th-th-thank you, girl.”

She turns from examining the coverage to glare at him. “I didn’t do it for you, tyrant.” 

The roots wrap all the way around his head and start to cover his mouth, nose and eyes. Within a handful of minutes, my father’s entire head is bound up in a thick layer of tough tree roots. Nothing of him remains to be seen. Persephone flies up into the air and hovers a few paces from the ground. She’s using her vantage point to direct other roots, now binding the other parts of Kronos’s body.

I breathe out a deep sigh of relief. Merely not having to look at him makes me feel volumes better, and stanching the flow of ichor is a good first step.

I feel the prickle of Hecate’s power. She’s probing the roots. “That was very clever of her,” she says. “These roots are part of the whole ecosystem of Tartarus. They’re all connected, it’s quite remarkable.”

“Persephone said something about that, the last time we were here. That all the trees she made were like one large organism.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Do you think these will function as well as the chains?”

“I’m going to guess they’re better. Partly because he’s dismembered, and the roots will keep the parts from reconnecting, and partly because the whole system will be able to give immediate warning if he even twitches.”

I nod. The benefits Persephone has brought to the Underworld have been many and varied. It’s hardly surprising that the very first change she wrought here should have such a major impact. I watch while Persephone descends again to meet us. She’s wearing an expression of deep satisfaction.

“I think that ought to hold him for a while, and all the bleeding is stopped,” she says. 

I pull her into my arms and give her a firm kiss. “That was a fantastic idea, Sweetness.”

She smiles and kisses me back. She looks pleased. “Hecate, did you test it? Is he wrapped up tight?”

“Yes, I think so.”

I look at the rocky ground around us. Kronos’s blood has been flowing for months now, and accumulated into wide puddles, holding an ample reservoir. There are several rivulets flowing away, the largest of which disappears into the mouth of a dark tunnel.

“All this blood--it’s  _ really _ not good,” I comment. “I’d like to know where it’s flowing to.”

Persephone nods. “You think it could trigger something?”

“That sort of thing has been known to happen. I could kick my brothers for being so careless.”

She smirks. “Can I watch?”

“Hell no, Sweetness, you need to take your turn.” I turn to my friend. “Hecate, I think you ought to go back. Mobilize some people and see about getting some cameras and motion sensors installed down here immediately, on both the tunnel entrances and… the body.”

“Right, we should have thought of that ages ago. You don’t need me to find the Lampades anyway. If you go wandering down there, they’ll be aware of you and reveal themselves if they want to.”

I nod. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Persephone and I enter the tunnel and walk hand in hand beside the trickling stream of my father’s golden blood. Embedded in the walls all around us are sleeping monsters, the buried mistakes of the past. This is not a place I’ve ever wanted to explore. I have no idea what we’ll find here.

Persephone’s hand in mine is slick with sweat--mine, not hers. She appears unfazed. The dull, ruddy glow of the too-close walls, the faint, pervasive smell of rot, the recent proximity to my father’s body--fear and despair flood me in equal measures.

I have to stop and close my eyes. Persephone notices immediately and turns to face me. I feel her free hand on my arm, gripping tightly, her voice caressing.

"I know, Smush. This is all kinds of awful for you, isn't it?"

“I'm sorry. You don't need this. Not again." My voice sounds terrible, cracked and weak. 

“Don't be silly, I always need you. This isn't a date activity I would've chosen, but I'm glad to be with you.”

A weird, high-pitched laugh escapes me. “World’s worst date, crawling around stinking tunnels searching for elusive nymphs and possible monsters and traitors.”

“I don’t know about  _ worst. _ Me standing up your proposal was a truly terrible date.”

I open my eyes to see her face, looking up at me with gentle concern. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“And this isn’t yours. It’s just a job that needs to be done.”

I take a deep breath. “You’re right.” 

We start walking again. The tunnel floor slopes gradually downward, and I’m grateful that the ceiling is high enough that I don’t have to hunch. I do it anyway, out of instinct, but I know there’s no danger of hitting my head. I hate this situation. I hate being penned up like this, and walking with Persephone into an unknown situation. I’d rather face enemies head-on than deal with this.

“So, this place, beyond Tartarus--is it still your realm?” she asks.

I turn to glance down at her, frowning slightly.

“Okay,  _ our _ realm?” she corrects, blushing rosy pink.

I smile. “Yes and no. This is a border region, and the borders are not well-defined. That’s why Menoetes is down here full-time, to keep an eye on things.”

“The border with what, though?”

“The depths of the Earth are my grandmother’s domain. Despite her disengagement with most of us, no one wants to challenge her for it.”

“Oh.” Persephone sounds thoughtful. Her last encounter with Gaia wiped her out for a couple of days, and propelled her to take actions about which she still has mixed feelings.

We walk for a long time, enough that I start to release some of my tension. It wouldn’t do to relax completely, but staying on constant high alert is exhausting. Better to keep my eyes peeled and stay calm. Persephone is content to be silent for the most part, only making an occasional comment. We follow the trickling stream. The tunnel never grows any dimmer, and my eyes adjust to the reddish light shed by the walls. It’s getting hotter, which probably means we’re getting closer to my grandmother’s domain.

From time to time there are side tunnels, but the stream of ichor stays with the main tunnel, so we keep with it. After walking an hour or more, we arrive at a spot where the tunnel forks, and the stream as well. I peer down each tunnel, but the stream seems to continue both ways unabated.

“What do we do now?” Persephone asks. “There could be problems in either direction.”

“Or both.”

She nods. “It’s possible one of the streams might just taper off. Maybe we should explore each way and check if it keeps going? That could make the decision for us.”

“I guess. I hate wasting time like this.”

“Well, we could each take one tunnel, go down for a few minutes and see, then come back here so we can discuss it.”

I frown. “I don’t like the idea of splitting up.”

Persephone gives me an annoyed look. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can! But I would be worried for you anyway. I can’t help it.”

“You think  _ I _ won’t worry for  _ you? _ ” There’s a bit of a snap to her voice and I realize I misstepped. Demeter’s behavior is making Persephone very sensitive to people encroaching on her independence.

“No.” I wait to see what she’ll say. I need to let her decide for herself.

“So, I’m gonna go take a look down this tunnel,” Persephone points. “I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes.”

“All right.”

I watch her walk down the passage until a turn takes her from my view. I hate this, but she’s right. It’s much more efficient. If I were doing this with Hecate, I wouldn’t have hesitated to accept the plan.

I trot down my assigned tunnel, following the blood stream. It shows no sign of tapering, just flowing along like an innocent little creek. Nothing to see here. No terrible potential of a Titan’s blood fueling the restoration of some sort of buried rage-monster.

I walk five minutes with no sign of the stream’s slackening. I’d better get back. I hope Persephone’s side doesn’t have similar results. She might get it in her head that we need to just tough it out separately. I didn’t sign up for that. I would have brought more people if I’d known we’d be facing this situation.

After fifteen minutes of following the tunnel back up it dawns on me that I haven’t seen the branching tunnel. This is very bad. If tunnels are changing down here, it could be that something’s already waking up, something with the power to alter reality. I try to push down the panic that’s already whimpering in my gut. I hate that Persephone is alone down here. 

Did she have a similar experience of returning to the intersection of tunnels? Is she waiting, someplace just out of sync with my reality, growing frantic for me?

“Persephone!” I yell. “I’m here!”

My voice echoes down the long tunnels. I wait, but there’s no response, not the faintest peep.

The dull red walls seem to exude hostility and pulse with menace. Are they getting closer? They can’t be, it’s just my fear doing that. The color and stench, the overwhelming heat, they’re all uncomfortably familiar. I was able to hold off the memories while Persephone was with me, grounding me, but now…

I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. Okay. We’ve been separated. I could go back, but that’s foolish. The mission that brought us here is still important, vital even. The only thing to do is keep following the blood downwards, and keep an eye out for these nymphs. It’s what Persephone will choose to do, I’m sure. She wouldn’t let a little thing like separation deter her.

I square my shoulders and march onwards. I’m pissed as hell. When I figure out who’s messing with us, they’re going to get a piece of my mind. I trot down the tunnel, telling myself I’m not running out of fear. I’m saving time and trying to get to what comes next more quickly. 

I’m really racing when I burst into a vast chamber that’s profoundly dark. The walls of the passageways up until now have shed sufficient light, but not here. I come to a halt. Looking around, I can’t see a thing, not even the tunnel I just emerged from.

**_At last, you’re here. How is it you never visit me?_ **

“Grandmother? Is that you?” It’s annoying that she’s choosing to address me in this booming, disembodied voice. I know she could manifest if she wanted to. Does she expect me to be impressed?

**_Of course, who else would it be?_ **

“Are you responsible for separating me from Persephone? I really don’t appreciate that!”

**_Do not worry, boy. She is well, and I wanted to speak to you privately._ **

I’m relieved to hear that Persephone is all right. I don’t think Grandmother would lie about that. “What did you want to speak about?”

**_You are the true heir of your father, but not of his evil. You are a god of the Earth; you have married a goddess of the Earth. It is right and good that there should be balance again between the realms._ **

“How do you mean  _ again _ , Grandmother? There has never been such a balance.” I’ve always believed there was a reason for Zeus’s sending me to the Underworld, and this was part of it. He didn’t trust me with power, so he gave me the least he could.

**_You are correct--not since I gave up my husband. See what has happened? It skews everything. A single goddess’s actions can endanger all of the living world._ **

“I would have thought you would approve. A powerful Earth goddess, protecting her child--isn’t that your sort of thing?”

**_Demeter likes to think she’s protecting her child, and perhaps in her mind, she is. But you and I know it’s not so. Don’t worry. I will show her the way, to launch a child into the world as is proper._ **

“What child is that?” I’m fantastically nervous about this. My grandmother’s children frequently turn out to be monsters, one way or another.

**_My new child, as you must know. Surely your wife told you?_ **

“She did.”

**_He will be born in a few months, and none too soon. He shall prove his worth._ **

“I’m glad to hear that, Grandmother.” There’s a melodious sound that I take to be her laughter. 

**_You can see for yourself. I don’t mind._ **

“Is that it? You just want to congratulate me on bringing balance, and tell me about your new child, like we’re a normal family? No prophecies or cryptic riddles?”

**_I did make a prophecy. Don’t push your luck, boy._ **

“Fine, I won’t. Where is Persephone, please?”

**_You have chosen well, my grandson. She will always find her way back to you._ **

Gaia’s words give me both an ominous chill and a feeling of deep relief. I don’t like the idea of Persephone’s going away, but returning to me is another thing.

“I will hold you to that, Grandmother.”

**_Go, rascal. I have given you enough of my time today._ **

A faint light attracts my eye, the reddish gleam of a tunnel. I walk toward it and soon enough find myself in the familiar passage, still following the stream of blood. Or _ a  _ stream of blood, at any rate. I know there are at least two.

I feel the pouch of my things under my chiton swing against my leg, and I’m struck with inspiration. I’m carrying Ione’s Eye, as I always do. I take it out, and try using it as I did when Persephone was missing, searching for resonance. After a few minutes, I give up. There’s no sense of it, not in any direction. Perhaps Hecate’s sorcery has worn off. I stand there in the tunnel: frustrated, angry, and agitated. Missing my wife and worried for her. 

Some sort of movement up ahead attracts my attention. I advance to an intersecting passage and look down it. Fluttering toward me is a large, pink swallowtail butterfly. It gives off a faint glow that shines on the dull cave walls. I grin widely. I know that butterfly. Persephone generates them, from time to time. 

“Is that you, Sweetness?” 

The butterfly hesitates, hovering in the middle of the passage, but doesn’t approach me. I stretch out my hand and create a moth of my own, letting it approach the butterfly. The pair of them spiral around one another in a gorgeous midair dance, and then they turn together, back down the tunnel the butterfly came from. I hurry after.

I follow for quite a while, but the flying pair seem to know where they’re going. They pause from time to time to allow me to catch up. After a long walk, I start to hear footsteps up ahead. I break into a run.

“Persephone? Is that you?”

“Hades! I’m coming!” 

Her voice echoes weirdly, and I can’t pinpoint the origin. I’m running flat out when Persephone sprints out of a side passage and crashes right into me. She rebounds, but I catch her by the arms.

“Hi there!” she says, grinning widely. “You found my messenger!”

“Oh, Sweetness! I was so worried!” I scoop her up and kiss her soundly, holding her tight to me. She laughs and runs her hands through my hair, kissing me back.

“Guess what, you were right!”

“About what?”

“Avin and Triamus. I found them wandering around, and tied them up good and tight. I heard them talking--they were looking for the Cornucopia. Anyway, then I ran into Menoetes and he’s taking them up to Tartarus for me. And he was pretty nice about it, too.”

“What about the blood flow?”

“Oh, it came to a small pool, and doesn’t seem to go any farther. Not sure if there’s anything more to be done about it. Maybe send a cleanup crew?” She shrugs. “How about you, anything interesting?”

“I spoke to my grandmother. I’ll tell you later. I’d really like to find that damned horn and get out of here.”

“ _ Ugh, _ you and me both. This place is so oppressive.”

It really is. We find our way back to the stream of ichor and resume our descent. This time, neither of us is inclined to permit another separation, so we keep our hands tightly clasped. The heat grows more brutal, and the air more stagnant. The smell just gets worse, too. Sulfur and methane, a horrid miasma.

I’m focusing on keeping calm, but Persephone is alert to our surroundings. She gives a shriek that sets off all my nervous tension. I whip around, but I can’t see any foes.

“There are eyes! In the wall, watching us!” she cries.

“Where?”

Persephone points, and sure enough, embedded in the rock wall is a face. A young man, gazing at us with eyes like a kaleidoscope. 

“Hades, help me! He can’t breathe in there.” 

Persephone grabs a protrusion to the side of the face and pries at it, bracing her foot on the wall for leverage.  I’m not at all sure freeing a strange figure is the right course of action. I’ve spent many centuries as a jailer, far longer than I did as a prisoner.

She pauses in tugging at the rock, and looks at me. “He’s innocent. I’m sure of it.”

I nod, accepting her certainty. “Stand back, Sweetness.” 

I dig my fingers into the rock and concentrate. I can feel the crystalline structure of minerals, and I pour heat into them. Slowly the stone case around the man shatters along the fault lines I created, and he is able to break free. Persephone pulls chunks of rock from his skin, brushing him off. 

He pants deeply, looking up at us. I offer my hand and help him to his feet. He’s a slender youth, not very tall, and a deep pinkish-orange, with weirdly iridescent eyes. He has nubs of horns on his head, sprouting in his fuzzy hair. He’s also naked as the day he was born.

“I thank you, friends,” the young man says, catching his breath. “I was starting to wonder how I would get out. I don’t think my mother thought this through.”

“How did you get stuck in there?” I ask. I’m still rather suspicious, for all that he seems a mild person.

“I was formed there, within the rock of my mother. I am Mithras, son of Gaia and Hephaestus.”

Persephone and I exchange a look. This is Gaia’s son? He’s amazingly full-grown. It’s also weird speaking to someone who was conceived only a few months ago. But why not? My niece sprang more or less fully-formed from my brother’s head. And Athena--she’s Mithras’s mother. Sort of. Aunt? Other mother? Whatever. It occurs to me that this guy who isn’t even technically born yet is both my uncle and my nephew. Freaking family!

“Will you come with us?” Persephone asks.

“Lady, I cannot. I must rest. The Earth slumbers now, and so must I.” He stares at her with his wide, glowing eyes, making him look just as innocent as any newborn being.

She nods, understanding something here that eludes me. “You will be ready to be born in the Spring. That is your proper time, as it is mine.”

“Yes, Lady. You have been the river that carries me where I must go. Will you be there when the time of my final birth is at hand?” 

Expressions of shock and delight skate over Persephone’s face. “I will. I’m much less squeamish about birth than I used to be.” 

She grins and I can’t help smiling, too. Mithras’s ultimate birth will doubtless be no less spectacular than his conception.

“What has brought you down to this place, Spring Lady? The terrible grip of the Winter above has made you seek out the warmth of my mother?” Mithras asks.

“No. We’re looking for a pair of nymphs. The torch-bearers.”

“Ah! Yes, I’ve seen them on their patrols.”

Mithras holds his hands out, beaming at us. Persephone takes his hand without hesitation, so I take the other. “My dear friends! I am deeply grateful to you both. I feel it is very significant that it should be the two of you to free me.”

“Why is that?” I ask.

“You represent death and rebirth, don’t you? Forgive me, I’m very new at this.” He smiles earnestly.

“No, you got it right,” Persephone says. “You also have aspects of death and rebirth?”

“I think so! I’m so glad you see it, too, Spring Lady.” He smiles at her, then at me. “Please don’t be upset, friend,” Mithras says to me. “I am no threat to you.”

I frown. I didn’t think he was. Did I? “I’m sorry to doubt you, when you’re so new to the world. But many of my grandmother’s children are… problematic.”

“Oh,” Mithras says, scrunching up his face. “I guess I will have to learn about that. I don’t want to be a problem.”

“That’s a very good sign,” Persephone says.

“Do you think so?” Mithras is exactly like a puppy, desperate to please us. It seems very unlikely that someone so new and so forthright could be deceiving us. “My mother tells me I have an important role to play. That everyone will be impressed with me. I want that very much!”

“Of course you do,” I say. “All immortals are like that. We want to be noticed.”

Persephone’s free hand reaches out and takes mine, completing the circle. She squeezes me firmly and her thumb strokes my fingers.

Mithras beams at us. “This is what  _ love _ is, isn’t it? My mother taught me of this. It is so beautiful!”

Persephone looks both startled and amused. “Yes, Hades is my love, and my husband.”

The newborn god nods vigorously. “You are so right together, it’s wonderful to see. I’m so happy it was you two that helped me! Rebirth and death, a perfect cycle!”

“I’m very glad to have met you… cousin.” For lack of any better definition of our relationship. “I’m sorry to cut this short but we’re down here for important business. Have you seen the Lampades recently?”

“Oh, sure. They went down that way, not long ago.” He points down a tunnel. “Don’t let me delay you. I’ll be seeing you soon, anyway!”

We take our leave of Mithras and walk for some time, holding hands again. I’m in a much better mood than I formerly was, buoyed by meeting someone so positive and full of innocent joy. He reminds me a lot of Persephone.

Both of us are somewhat relaxed now. We’re searching for a pair of loyal nymphs, but the possibility of encountering foes keeps us alert. This doesn’t occupy the whole of my attention, so I find myself thinking about various things I might have done wrong lately. I can’t help it. The happiness I feel with Persephone is still so new and foreign to me that I’m half-convinced I’m going to screw it up somehow.

“Can I ask you something?” I blurt out.

“Um, let me think,” Persephone says, playfully tapping her chin. “Can my wonderful, thoughtful, charming, funny, intelligent, handsome husband ask me a question? I suppose I'll allow it. Just this once, mind you!”

I can't help grinning at her description of me. Hearing those words gives me thrills all the way to my toes. We continue walking, our eyes tracking about for signs of the Lampades.

“I can't ask it  _ now. _ Not after you said all that!”

“What! You got me all prepared, and you're chickening out on me?”

“You already answered it, anyway. More or less.”

“Nuh uh, I'm curious now! You've never left me hanging before.” She pokes me in the side with a finger.

“Oh, a challenge from the little goddess! Okay, but after all this buildup it's going to fall flat. I wanted to know--before… I mean, before we got married… did you ever think about the future? With me?”

Persephone stops and I nervously turn to look at her. She reaches up with both hands and cups my jaw. “Yes. I thought about it all the time. I wanted you. I wanted you for my own, and I wanted to belong to you.”

“Oh, Kore!”

“I owe you an apology, Hades. If you felt you had to ask, then I've been seriously neglecting you. I'm so sorry! I love you more than anything in the world.”

“I know that. And you're not neglecting me. I'm just--”

“Going through some self-doubt.”

Her words, her gentle knowing smile--they stop me cold. “Yeah. You know me.”

“Yes.” Her fingers tug gently, so I bend down and close my eyes, ready for a kiss. I perceive the brush of her breath on me, her rich scent, the warmth of her nearness. “I love you,” she whispers. “We don't do anything right. We had our honeymoon first, got married while I was sleeping, then the proposal afterwards, and none of that changes our feelings. Does it?”

“No. It doesn’t.”

The kiss brushes my lips with the softness of total trust. My hands rise slowly until I find her in the dark, cupping her head with one hand, the middle of her back with the other. This goddess in my arms knows me better than anyone else ever has. She looked me right in the eye and fully comprehended every nuance of my insecurity.

She didn't hate me for it. And she didn't run. She smiled and gave me everything. I pull Persephone tight to my chest and make every effort to show her how much I adore her. Her mouth is hot on mine, restless and demanding, yet sweet as well. With one hand I hold her close, while the other wanders, exploring her yielding curves.

She makes soft sounds, tiny hums and moans in her throat, that make me tingle all over. I can’t resist. My free hand lifts her short leather skirt and my fingers stroke the silky skin beneath. Her incredible fragrance is shredding my control. We’re both wearing short chitons, undressing wouldn’t even be necessary, we could have a very quick and delicious--

“Your Majesties, what an unexpected pleasure.” 

The voice is parched and jagged with disuse. I release Persephone and we both turn to see a pair of women emerging from a side tunnel. Tall blue nymphs, with sparkling golden eyes, each carrying a lit torch.

“Hello, Gorgyra, Orphne. It’s been a few centuries,” I say. I was a little surprised to hear that the Lampades visited Persephone at the coronation, but didn’t even greet me. Then again, we’ve never had much to do with one another. They’ve always been thick with Hecate, but not me.

“Sire. It has.” Gorgyra nods politely, but she’s far more interested in Persephone. “You have come to us, Dread Queen. We promised to bear light for you, in the dark places.”

“You did. We are glad for the company of the Lampades. Hecate has told me something about you and your sister,” Persephone replies.

The Lampades exchange a glance and a slight smile. They seem pleased.

“Sire, we thank you for the gift of Persephone. Our realm has long thirsted for a queen.”

“You are welcome,” I tell the nymph. It’s very odd hearing Persephone referred to this way, as if she were a commodity, but I have to agree with the sentiment.

“We came to ask a favor of you,” Persephone says. “We were told that you have an object in your possession, a magical horn that once belonged to my mother.”

“The Cornucopia,” Gorgyra says. 

Orphne smiles and gestures down a tunnel.

“Yes, we have it. We have been holding it ready for you,” Gorgyra goes on. 

“For me?” Persephone says. “You’re saying that before I was even born, you had this… gift for me?”

“For the Chthonic Queen, then. We have long prepared for such,” Gorgyra says. 

Orphne nods vigorously and seems to try to speak, without success. Her sister interprets for her. “We mean no offense to you, Hades, but we felt that it was important that there be a feminine influence over the Underworld, for balance. When we saw this object that Hephaestus had, it seemed to call to us. We traded much for it, without even knowing why. It was only after many conversations with Gaia that we understood what we were waiting for.”

Gaia again. My grandmother also spoke of my realm needing a woman’s touch, and more balance. I would be resentful of all this manipulation, except that I agree. My realm has been lacking many things that Persephone has been able to supply.

We follow the Lampades down a tunnel, Persephone’s hand in mine. My eyes have adapted to the dim glow provided by the walls, making the torches seem painfully bright. The longer we walk, the dimmer the walls grow, until the only light is that of the torches. The four of us arrive in a chamber. It feels huge but it’s profoundly dark. For all I know, it’s the same chamber where my grandmother spoke to me. Who can tell, all these tunnels are alike.

“Will you wait here?” Gorgyra asks. “We will fetch the Cornucopia.”

“We will,” Persephone replies. Her hand tightens on mine.

The Lampades walk away from us, taking their torches with them. As they recede, the lights become smaller and smaller, until they’re mere pinpricks of light. It’s an odd illusion, as if they shrank instead of moved away. 

In the dark space I’m very aware of my companion. I can hear her breathing, and her marvelous scent seems intensified. If the Lampades had been a minute or two slower, they would have caught us right in the act. My cheeks heat just thinking about it. I should be ashamed of myself, for letting my lust run away with me and nearly subjecting Persephone to that embarrassment.

“How long do you think they’re going to take?” Persephone says. The lights have dwindled to points like distant stars.

“No idea.”

“Well…”

Next to me, she moves, using our entwined hands to find her way unerringly in the dark. Her free hand is under my kilt before I know what’s happening and I gasp in shock.

“What are you doing?”

“I would have thought that would be obvious.” 

There’s laughter in her voice, and her breath tickles my neck. Her hand moves in vigorous strokes. I bend down and capture her lips, knowing just how to find her with the honed practice of long experience in dark places. 

“You’re playing with fire, little goddess.”

“I know exactly what I’m playing with,” she whispers. Then she tugs in a particular way that makes me hiss in response.

“I think they’re coming back. The lights are getting bigger.”

“Spoilsport! All right, I’ll stop. Can’t let them catch us twice in a row, they’ll think we’re sex fiends.”

“Right, we’re supposed to keep that a secret.”

Persephone giggles and gives me one last kiss and caress. She releases her hold and settles against my side, letting me embrace her. Together we watch the torches grow larger. In a few minutes the Lampades are back. Orphne is carrying something in her free hand. It’s a wide, spiral horn like one belonging to a very large goat. It’s dull gold in color and appears to be hollow. 

“Here it is, our Queen. The Cornucopia.” 

Gorgyra makes a flourishing gesture, and Orphne holds it out. Persephone takes it in her left arm, cradling it to her chest. It doesn’t seem to be heavy.

“Thank you very much. I greatly appreciate this appropriate and timely gift,” Persephone says. “If I can make it work, it will do much to alleviate the mortals’ suffering.”

The nymphs nod in unison, both of them smiling. 

“We are delighted to serve you,” Gorgyra replies.

“Have you noticed the stream of blood flowing in some of the tunnels?” I ask. “We’re concerned that it might be catalyzing problems.”

“There are always… things down here, that one would do well to avoid. They keep away from us, but we hear them. I don’t believe there are more than usual since the blood began to flow.”

“That’s good. Persephone stopped the source, so with any luck we might avoid a problem.”

“If we notice anything unusual we will be in touch,” Gorgyra says.

Orphne nods vigorously, her eyes wide. She makes a face, baring her teeth, and makes claws of her hands.

“You’re trying to say that horrid things lurk in the dark?” I ask.

“Yes, Sire,” Gorgyra says. “Not new, but the old things are bad enough. May we show you the quickest way out?”

“Please.”

We’ve found the Cornucopia, warned the Lampades, caught some traitors, spoken to my grandmother, and stopped the flow of my father’s blood. It seems to me that’s enough accomplishments for one day. And I’m just as eager to be alone with Persephone as she is with me.

The Lampades lead us for some time down a tunnel, until we arrive at a junction with another. This one feels a bit different, more manufactured than natural. I can’t figure out what could have carved it, though.

Gorgyra points. “The way out is there, but we can go no further. This is the outer boundary of our territory.”

“Thank you, dear friends,” Persephone says, smiling at them. “You’ve been a great help.”

Gorgyra hands me her torch. The tunnel in front of us is much dimmer than the ones we’ve been exploring all day. “Yes, thank you. I hope we’ll see more of you in the Underworld.”

“Perhaps so, Sire.” 

The blue nymphs bow and depart. Persephone takes my free hand with hers and we walk down the smooth-walled tunnel. I don’t like that this one is different, and I don’t like that the Lampades were wary about it. We’ve been very lucky not to run into anything hostile so far. 

“Do you think there really are monsters ahead?” Persephone asks. 

I’m not surprised that she picked up on my thoughts. She has a way of doing that. Her tone isn’t at all nervous, though--far from it.

“Why do you ask, Sweetness? You have something in mind?”

“Well, we do keep getting interrupted. I guess it’s just asking for trouble.” I feel her hand, giving me a regretful pat.

I laugh. “We really aren’t very good at picking our moment, are we?”

“Oh, sure we are, for the most part. It’s just that long walks with you put me in the mood.”

We arrive at yet another chamber. The light from our torch flickers over the smooth walls, illuminating the high ceiling. Vast shadows encroach on our tiny pool of light.

A raspy voice sounds in the dark. “Oh, look, sisters! Snacks!”

The laughter comes from all around us, echoing weirdly in the dark space. Persephone stops beside me and squeezes my hand. We both look around for the speaker. She doesn’t seem particularly afraid, despite wanting to keep hold of me.

“This is as far as you go, trespassers. We shall feast tonight!” This voice comes from a different direction. From yet another, a figure steps out of the shadows. It’s of middling height, stringy with corded muscle, with a hide of patchy gray. Its hands are tipped with sharp claws. Its skin seems to be flaking and peeling, and its eyes are huge and glowing orange. It has many teeth, thin and sharp like needles.

It opens its mouth to speak, hissing and slurring around those teeth. “Not you, old one. Your blood doesn’t interest us. But that little pink poppet--she is full of youth and life! We will drink from her!”

“You will not lay so much as a crusty finger on my wife, parasite." Idiotic bravado. I don’t know that’s true at all--but trying to scare them can’t really hurt.

Several more step out of the shadows, similar to the first figure. They cackle wildly. 

“The Titan-spawn thinks he has real teeth,” taunts one.

“He may be worthy of our attention as well," hisses another. "If not to drink then perhaps… other things."

"Oh, I don't  _ think _ so, bitch!" Persephone says, her voice rising. She didn’t make a peep when they threatened to drink her blood, but this? I would be amused if I could spare the attention.

One of the creatures giggles, a weirdly high-pitched sound. “The little one speaks! I can smell her. She will be  _ delicious. _ ”

The first speaker smiles a crazed, sharp grin. “Time for the dark, sisters!” it cries. 

All of the creatures spread their arms, reaching out toward one another. Inky blackness seems to spill from their outstretched fingertips, dripping down the walls to smear the glowing walls with shadows, overwhelming the light from my torch. This is more annoying than frightening to me.

“You are forgetting just one thing, vermin. I am not afraid of the darkness. I  _ am _ the darkness.” I want to roll my eyes at myself. I sound like a cheap movie villain. Time to back up my swagger with some action.

I drop the sputtering torch and summon my helmet to me, clapping it onto my head. It will shield me from whatever vision-related senses these creatures might have, even in the dark, but more importantly, it enhances  _ my _ vision. Once it’s in place, I summon my bident, holding it in my right hand and keeping a firm grip on Persephone with the other. In the dark, she’s at a disadvantage.

The creatures hiss in anger and distress. One takes a step forward, claws raised, and leaps back when my bident scrapes across its torso. I can feel Persephone reaching with her power, and I want to tell her not to bother. She can try to summon Cerberus or the Furies, but it won’t work. This place is too deep for most communication to get through.

The creatures are tightening their circle around us, moving in, keeping their silence. I can see well enough by the heat their bodies give off. I debate whether to tell Persephone what’s going on, but that will betray my position. 

Persephone lets loose a massive surge of energy, and pulls her hand from mine. “Back off, hags! We are not your prey!”

I want to giggle. Now Persephone is the one sounding like she’s in a movie. I check over my shoulder and see that there’s something in the hand she just released from mine. She’s holding the mace that Hephaestus made, and as I watch the pink head begins to glow with a strong light.

I look away to preserve my dark-adapted vision. The creatures are reacting. 

“No!” one shrieks, flinching back. 

Others hiss and begin to scatter, trying to keep away from the intense, hot light Persephone is making. 

Freed from the need to protect her, I begin to move. I can’t be seen, which gives me a huge advantage. One gray-skinned monster falls to my bident with a sharp cry, then another and yet another. The weird light stunned them, and they have few defenses.

A nearby one notices what’s happening to its cohorts. “The Titan’s whelp is free!” I spear that one next.

The others run from me, scattering in the dark. 

I return to my wife, shielding my eyes from her new weapon. She’s panting a little with exertion and baring her teeth with delightful ferocity. Her eyes dart around, searching for more enemies. There’s a pair on the ground nearby that I know I didn’t deal with. Persephone’s victims, I take it.

I remove my helmet and she spots me, breathing a sigh of relief.

“The rest are gone?” she asks.

“Yes. They ran. They were quite frightened by the light you made.”

She lifts the Cornucopia a bit with her left hand. “After all the trouble we went through to find it, I wasn’t going to lose it.”

I laugh. “I think they were more interested in  _ you _ than in it.”

“Whatever. Either way, I wasn’t going to just give in.”

“But you know what this means, don’t you Sweetness? You summoned your emblem.”

“Oh. I guess I did.” She gives me a sweet, shy smile.

I let my bident and helmet go, and scoop my wife up in my arms: mace, Cornucopia, and all. “Powerful, amazing goddess! Look at you! It’s no wonder monsters run from you.”

Persephone makes a slight scowl, and twists to one side. “I think one of them got me, a little.”

“Oh, sorry!” I set her down and she turns to show me. There’s a long, shallow scratch on the back of her upper arm, where she can’t see. It’s leaking a slow trickle of ichor. “You have a scratch. The wound itself isn’t bad. Do you know how you got it?”

“I’m not really sure. I only just felt it.”

“Hm. If one of them got you, you could have picked up some venom.”

“Oh. What were they?”

“Lamia. Bloodsuckers. One of many mistakes of my parents’ generation.”

“I guess we’d better get home. I can’t really heal myself.”

“Right. Do you mean to keep carrying that?” I indicate the mace.

Persephone looks startled. “You mean… I could do with it what you do with your bident?”

“Exactly. You just create a little pocket in the aether and stick it there, and then when you want it, it’s all ready to go. Really, your summoning it from Hephaestus’s workshop was much harder.”

“Huh.” She bites her lip and concentrates. I can feel her power flowing in a slow trickle. “I’m not sure I quite get it,” she admits.

“I’ll show you.” 

I reach into the aether, nice and slow, and grab my bident. I pull it out so Persephone can see, then generate a new pocket for it. This time her face lights with understanding. Immediately her power flows again, and she shoves the mace though a ripple in the air, her hand emerging empty. 

“Like that?”

“You’ve got it!”

The torch I dropped earlier has gone out, so I leave it behind. Persephone takes my hand again as we walk out of the big chamber and into a narrower tunnel. The walls again give us a vague light, not as much as before. I really want to get out of here. I’m very tired of dark, claustrophobic caves.

Persephone stumbles and bumps into me. “Oh, sorry. I’m feeling a little woozy,” she says.

“That’s the venom, probably.” I lift her in my arms. She places the Cornucopia between us and wraps her arms around me.

“I guess this way I can keep watch behind us.”

I chuckle. “As long as you stay awake.”

“I don’t think I could sleep here. It isn’t so restful.”

I walk a few minutes, keeping my eyes peeled for an exit. Persephone strokes my neck and shoulders, letting me know she’s not asleep.

“Do you realize this is the longest we’ve spent together awake, in weeks?” I ask. I immediately want to kick myself. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry for that, Smush. It’s all my fault.”

“It’s not a matter of fault. Sometimes duty is like that. I didn’t mean to complain.”

“I know. You’ve been so supportive, I really appreciate that.”

I don’t know how to answer. How else could I possibly act? Persephone is doing her utmost; I have to do all I can, as well.

I turn a corner, and the tunnel ahead of us is blocked by a wall of loose stones, as if the ceiling collapsed. I come to an abrupt halt and Persephone turns to look.

“Well, crap,” she says. “How are we supposed to get out, then? This is the way they said to go.”

I shake my head. “Can you stand for a minute?”

“Sure.”

I set her down and she holds onto the wall. She looks shakier than I realized, but this should only take a moment. I reach deep into the rock walls around us and probe. There is, in fact, a vertical shaft before us, that’s been filled in with rubble. Deliberately? I can’t tell. At any rate, I should be able to clear it. 

I push on the loose rock before me. It doesn’t move at first, held in place by the force of tons of rock behind and above. I concentrate, push my power harder, searching for the weak point that will yield--there. A column of smaller pebbles. I shove with my power and there’s a boom and a crash behind the barrier.

“I’m clearing the way,” I tell Persephone. 

She nods, undisturbed by the noise. She can probably feel what I’m doing. 

Larger stones start to yield to my insistence, and I can feel the exit. It seems to be more of a sinkhole than a mineshaft. I keep pushing and the rock barrier before us crumbles and quakes. All at once it gives way and recedes rapidly. In a few moments, I take a few steps forward and look up. Far above, I can see a swath of starry sky and the light of the moon.

“Let’s go, Sweetness.” 

I pick Persephone up again, noting that she’s trembling slightly. Not out of fear, I’m fairly sure. The venom must be affecting her. I need to get her home. She wraps one arm around me, holding the Cornucopia with the other as I launch us into the air. We rise slowly through the vertical tunnel. The sides are rough and sloped.

We emerge into the cold of the Mortal Realm. It’s full night, and the moonlight shines on the fields of snow around us.

“Aetna,” Persephone says. “We’re in Sicily.”

I turn to see what she means. Indeed, a large, familiar stratovolcano looms over us. “Welcome home, Kore.”

“Very funny. I’d  _ like _ to go home, if you’re ready.”

Before I can answer, I feel the beginnings of a quake through my feet. Within moments it increases dramatically to a full temblor. I look up and see smoke escaping from the caldera.

“This is  _ not _ good. Aetna isn’t scheduled for anything dramatic for some time!”

Persephone is stiff in my arms and her voice is strained. “Maybe this is what Hephaestus meant?”

I focus on her. She’s looking pale and sweaty. “Never mind, we need to get home.”

I hold her close and step into the Narrow Spaces.

***

We emerge on Hecate’s front step. I press the bell, hoping it’s not too late, but I hear footsteps almost immediately. The door swings open.

“Ah!” says my old friend. “You’re back, good. Wait, what’s wrong?”

“We had a little encounter with some Lamia. I think one of them scratched Persephone.”

“But look!” Persephone says, holding up the Cornucopia. “We did it!”

Hecate chuckles and ushers us in. “Come, sit down.”

She blinks a little when I just sit with Persephone in my arms, rather than set her down first. Hecate takes Persephone’s hands and her power flows.

“Yes, you caught a little venom. Nothing that will do permanent harm. I'll go make you up an antidote, and then you can sleep it off.”

She leaves the room, leaving us to our own devices.

Persephone looks up at me. She’s still clutching the Cornucopia. Her lips twitch, and then she giggles at me.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“No idea! I just can’t keep it inside anymore.”

I grin, and pull her in for a hug. She’s right, I feel incredibly light and free. Knowing that the mortals won’t starve is a huge burden lifted. Persephone’s giggles are contagious, and I start to chuckle too.

When Hecate returns a few minutes later, Persephone and I are half collapsed on one another, hooting and shrieking with uncontrollable laughter. “Okay, great. You two are no good to anyone like this. Here’s the antidote; why don’t you go home and get some rest?”

“That is a fantastic idea!” I say between spasms. “I wish I’d thought of it.”

“Hecate, could you take the Cornucopia, please?” Persephone asks. “I don’t know how to work it but it would be a shame for it to sit idle while I’m recovering.”

“Certainly. I’ll see about getting it working right away.”

***

The Cornucopia ends up at the healing station in Eleusis. It takes a few days of experimentation to figure out its idiosyncrasies and get it working at full capacity. It requires constant attendance, and not just anyone can make it work. A number of goddesses can power it, including Persephone, Psyche, Eileithyia, Hecate, Hestia, and someone called Annona, who I’m informed that Persephone plans to hire. It doesn’t produce anything for Eros or Hermes, but it does for Iakchos. I’m shocked when I try that it works for me.

It pours out a generous stream of grain, fruit, vegetables, whatever. It takes a little tinkering but it can be directed. Once that’s sorted, distribution turns out to be more of a challenge than production. I send a note to Zeus, asking him to send anyone who can possibly help getting food where it’s needed.

We work ourselves into exhaustion for days on end, barely managing to stagger home for a few hours’ sleep from time to time. There’s finally something concrete to be done, a way to help. I’m coming to the end of one of my shifts when Psyche comes to relieve me at the Cornucopia.

I stand and watch her work for a minute. Psyche is still mastering working with her power, and needs to concentrate to keep the Cornucopia flowing. I smile at her. She’s making great progress.

Alecto comes up to my side, her face set in grim lines. “Can we speak with you privately?”

I nod, and follow her out to the brow of the hill. We wrap our cloaks tight against the chill wind and ignore the entrancing view. Megaera and Tisiphone approach and stand waiting, as well. They look depressed and tired.

“We just got a report from the Underworld,” Alecto says. “It’s bad. There’s been a huge surge in deaths. It’s the cold that’s killing people.”

I let out a breath and feel misery wash over me. I was afraid of this. It’s not enough. Of course it’s not enough.

“Have you told Persephone?”

“Yes,” Megaera says. “She’s down by the spring. It hit her really hard.”

“I’m sure it did.”

I turn away from the Furies and climb down the side of the hill, where a crevice shelters a tiny pool fed by a spring. Persephone is sitting on a rock, looking at the water. Her shoulders are hunched and her posture is tense, but she’s not crying. I sit down next to her and wait for her to speak. 

For a minute or two she doesn’t seem aware of my presence, then she turns to look at me. Her eyes are huge and hollow. “Did you hear?”

“Yes.”

I don’t know what else to say. Persephone pinned her hopes on this, on the Cornucopia turning things around. On no more mortals dying for her. She worked tirelessly to find it, fought bravely, and emerged in triumph. It should have worked. She gave everything she has, and it isn’t enough. I want to smash something. I want to find Demeter and kick her until she agrees to stop this childish tantrum. I can’t understand why no one has done this. Why doesn’t Zeus make her behave? It’s literally his job!

Persephone starts to quiver, very slightly. She’s still not giving in to tears. She hasn’t reached for me, and I’m a little afraid to touch her. She’s extremely tense and it might set her off. She draws a shaky breath and wipes her eyes.

“Well. I guess I’ll just have to try something else,” she says.

I’m astonished. She’s not giving up. She doesn’t see this as the end of the road at all.

“What else is there?” I ask. Trying to be gentle.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to figure that out. Maybe I should go see Helios about increasing the heat he makes.”

I shake my head quietly. It’s a complete mystery why Helios’s rays aren’t as effective as they once were. No one understands what exactly Demeter has done. “Sweetness, you’re just going to break your heart.”

She sniffles and takes my hand. “I can’t give up. They deserve someone to fight for them.”

I nod. I understand that, and I would never expect her to turn her back on the mortal population. I’m just surprised that she doesn’t see the one way to save them that’s open to her. It would be simple and quick. I can’t say it. I don’t want it. I know she must realize. Why do I have to be the one to say it?

“Oh, hey, there you are!” chirps an intruder. 

I turn to look over my shoulder. Hermes is hovering there, grinning like he caught us misbehaving. He flinches back from my glare.

“Um, Zeus is looking for you, Hades. He wants to speak to you as soon as possible.”

I let out a hiss. “Fine. Thank you.”

He flits away and Persephone pats my arm. “You don’t think he wants me, too? I’m really tired.”

“You go home, Sweetness. Get some rest. I’ll deal with this.”

We exchange a brief kiss before going our separate ways.

***

When I arrive in Zeus’s office, he’s already sitting there with Poseidon, both of them slumped in armchairs, sipping drinks.

“Hey, want one?” Zeus asks.

“Yeah. Sure.” Why not? I already know this isn’t going to go well.

Zeus pours me a scotch and I knock it back, barely tasting it, then hold my glass out for a refill. I settle down with my renewed drink, slouching into my own chair. I eye my brothers warily, but they’re both looking at their drinks. Every nuance of their body language shouts their guilt, declares what they were discussing before I arrived.

I’m not going to make this easy for them. I glare and sip my scotch.

After some minutes of silence, Zeus can’t take it any longer. He shuffles uncomfortably in his chair and clears his throat.

“Marriage is sacred, as my wife keeps reminding me,” he says. “I can’t ask either of you to do anything, but if this Cornucopia thing doesn’t do the trick--”

All of a sudden I can’t bear it. “I know! I fucking know already, okay? You don’t have to come at me with that mournful expression, asking me to make yet  _ another _ sacrifice for everyone else’s benefit. I  _ know.” _

“I wouldn’t even ask but we’re losing so many worshippers!”

“I’ve gone my whole life without worshippers, you degenerate! Suck it up!”

His head whips in irritation. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew--”

“Just shut the fuck up!”

I gulp down my scotch. From the corner of my eye, I catch Poseidon’s gesture to Zeus. Placating. I’m sure they worked out between them how to convince me that I have to give up my wife.

“Have another?” Poseidon asks. He doesn’t wait for confirmation, just pours for me.

I’ve been cutting way back on my drinking, so I can really feel the alcohol I’ve consumed seeping through my limbs, making me sleepy. What the hell, though. This seems like a great time to get drunk.

I rub my face. My eyes are stinging and I don’t want my brothers to see. I glare at Zeus, but he’s looking down, unable to meet my eye. What a fucking coward. Rather than make Demeter do her duty, he expects me to give in. To be the one who  _ once again _ gets shafted in the name of the common good. To take it lying down, as I always have. 

Rage boils up in me. Why should I? Why should I give up the one good thing I’ve ever won for myself? The person who makes me feel like I’m worthy of love? I refrained from moving to overthrow my brother, but maybe it’s time. It’s clear that I would have some support from others who recognize Zeus’s and Demeter’s actions as selfish and temperamental. 

But Persephone… she didn’t want war. She didn’t want to be burdened with more responsibility, and likely centuries of retaliatory treachery. She doesn’t see me as a backstabbing traitor. She wouldn’t like that at all.

And she still cares for the mortals. She hasn’t even had worshippers until very recently, and yet she still thinks they’re worthy of her care and protection. Like me. Her selflessness and generosity is a stark contrast to her mother and my brother. I drink my scotch slowly. Thinking.

“She likes… she likes to snuggle, you know?” 

I don’t know why I said that. My brothers are disarmed. They didn’t expect me to be soft.

“Yeah. That’s the best, isn’t it?” Poseidon says. His voice is gentle and full of sympathy.

“I’ll talk to her,” I say. I don’t know what I’ll say. Not yet.

I have another scotch while I think. I feel like I’ve just driven a spike through my chest, and worse, I'm going to have to do the same to the person I love most. I would suffer any pain to spare Persephone, gladly. But instead of the privilege of suffering in her place, my duty is to hurt her in order to keep her safe from worse pain. I cannot stand by and watch her diminish. She will see this as a terrible betrayal. She won’t be wrong.

***

I recognize that I’ve had too much to drink, and it’s affecting my thought process. That, and I’m so exhausted that I can barely keep my eyes open. Nevertheless I know it’s the right decision to head home to the apartment. There’s nowhere else I want to be. Wherever Persephone is, that’s where I belong. 

The apartment is quiet. I check on the dogs, but they’re sleeping peacefully, their protruding bellies giving evidence that Persephone fed them extra tonight. Probably out of guilt for neglecting them lately.

I smile to myself. That’s just like her.

I go down the hall and stand in the bedroom door. The lights from the surrounding city give a dim glow, enough that I can see my wife, curled on her side, sound asleep in our bed. I feel a swell of gratitude and relief that she's here. 

Cerberus is asleep next to her. Damned presumptuous dog. That’s  _ my  _ spot. I lean on the doorframe, feeling indecisive. I shouldn’t disturb her. Maybe I should sleep in another bed. 

As if I spoke the thought aloud, Persephone props herself up on one elbow, the blankets falling away from her bare chest. “There you are! Come to bed, Smush. I’ve been waiting for you.”

I obey. I take off my clothes while watching my wife shoo our dog away. I slide in next to her and she cuddles up, immediately getting quite handsy. 

“You need your sleep, Kore.” A token protest. I am hers to do with as she pleases.

“I need  _ you. _ I’ll sleep afterward.”

“Afterward, huh? You’re asserting your prerogative, little goddess?”

“I am. I've waited long enough, and I want to remind you that you belong to me.” She pauses, and tilts her head. “Don't you?” Her voice is uncertain.

Can she doubt it? “Yes. Forever.” I lean in to kiss her.

Over the past few weeks, we’ve had very few opportunities when we were both awake, in the same place at the same time, and possessing enough energy. Those times were… okay. Nothing compared to our past standards. I know that it’s not possible for every time to be fantastic, but lately I’ve been wondering if something has been lost. Still, I’m more than willing to take any scraps Persephone can spare for me, and be grateful that she still wants me.

She squirms into a stretch and her lip curls provocatively. “Well, good. Are you too drunk?”

No doubt she can smell the scotch. “I certainly am _ not._ Let me show you.”

She grins.

I fling back the bedcovers and dive downwards. I’m not in the mood to play around. I want to give Persephone everything. I want to make her remember me. My open mouth slides down her belly and I swipe with my tongue left and right, anything within reach. I’m searching by smell and touch alone, my tired eyes shut. I find her thighs beneath my hands and grip them, encouraging her to open for me.

I feel her hands on my head, tugging gently at my hair, fondling my ears. She’s humming with eagerness as she directs me, pushing me slightly as she moves beneath me into the perfect position. I know where I am just by the heady scent. I let my tongue probe as her thighs come up to clasp my head. I find the sweet, down-pointing furrow in her mound and follow it, exploring along her outer labia. I can hear her breathing speeding up, and feel her heels resting on my shoulders.

I have zero patience tonight. I want her to  _ react. _ I want to make her wild and drink her response. I want--I want more than I should. Time to concentrate on what I can give, instead. I take her clit and suck it hard, lapping my tongue on the underside. I trail one hand up her thigh and find her opening: she’s reasonably wet, enough to get started.

“Yes!” Persephone gasps. “Touch me! I need you!”

I want to tell her how much I love it that she doesn’t hold back in expressing herself, but my mouth is rather busy. I continue sucking and licking as I push a finger inside, her tight passage gripping me with surprising strength. She moans and tilts her hips. I understand her unspoken demand. 

I thrust a few times with my finger, then withdraw it, to sounds of dismay from Persephone. I raise my head for a moment and let her see as I suck on two of my fingers, getting them good and slick. I hear her breath hitch. 

My fingers probe deeply and she moans. “Tongue!”

“Yes, ma’am.” I love it when she’s demanding. It thrills me to push my sweet wife far enough into lust that she forgets to be shy and polite.

I settle my mouth on her clit again, ravaging it with intense caresses while I spread my fingers as wide as I can. Persephone squirms and wails. Heat pours out of her, along with the incredible fragrance of her arousal. I feel some preliminary quivers, deep inside. 

I use my other hand to massage her mound, pushing in deeply with my thumb. In the right mood that makes her go berserk, and tonight is no exception. “Yes!” she shrieks. Her hips buck helplessly and her whole body shudders. “That’s so good!”

I thrust my fingers deep and hard, hooking them to use the tips to stroke her inner walls. I lap at her clit, pushing inward with my tongue and other hand. All her sensitive parts are at my mercy, and I’m not in a lenient mood. Or--well, I suppose that depends on one’s perspective.

I don’t let up. Persephone chants my name and her fingers dig into my scalp. The powerful muscles of her core squeeze my fingers and I manage to slide a third inside her. In my mouth her clit is noticeably swelling, and I know what that signals. I suck and stab with my tongue, making tight circles.

“Oh, Hades, yes!” she yells. “I’m coming! You’re making me come! Oh, right now, oh!”

She doesn’t need to tell me, but I’m thrilled she wants to. My thrusting fingers speed up and my tongue laps relentlessly. Persephone kicks her legs, unable to control herself, and her cries blend into a wordless moan. Her hands are clamped on my head, holding me in place. Not that I want to escape. Or ease up.

Her convulsions go on and on until I hear a whimpery tone to her voice. I don’t want to stop, but I back off a bit. I make my strokes lighter and a bit less direct.

“Oh,” she sighs. Her fingers massage my head. She sounds like she’s coming back to herself. 

After one last tender lick, I raise my head. “Feeling better?” Maybe now she can sleep.

Persephone smirks at me. “I’ll bet I can come again before you do.”

I grin widely. There isn’t any doubt in my mind that she’s right. “I’ll bet you can, too.”

“Okay, then, I’ll bet I can come twice before you do.”

I laugh, giving in. I have no real will to resist her. “What do I get if I win?”

_ “Hm. _ Well. That depends what you  _ want, _ Hades.”

The force of my rising need is overwhelming. "I want to make you beg. And then I want to make you scream my name."

Her eyes go wide and her lips part. “Okay,” she says in a tiny, breathy voice.

“Just okay?”

“ _ Please,  _ Hades. Make me beg. Make me whimper and quiver until I can't take it and I'm frantic for your cock inside me!”

Something deep inside me resonates to her words. Far more than my own pleasure, I desperately need to know that she needs me. That I satisfy her in ways no one else can. With the permission she just gave me to be ruthless, I dive back into her hot core. I hold back  _ nothing.  _

I don’t care about the ache in my jaw. I don’t care about the juices flooding my cheeks and chin and flowing down my neck. Nothing matters but Persephone, and her response to what I’m doing. I’m a machine for her pleasure. I’m her eager servant, and her savage master, both at the same time.

By the time I have to stop, sabotaged by treacherous cramps in my back and neck, she’s well beyond words. I’ve lost track of how many times she’s come. I flop onto my back, panting, more than a little stunned. Probably oxygen deprivation, or incurable lust.

Persephone pants next to me for a couple minutes, and then she slips out of bed. I immediately miss her but I’ve worn myself out. I can’t even ask where she’s going, I’m exhausted. I drape my forearm over my eyes and try to control my breathing and my pervasive need.

In a minute I hear the pad of her feet as she returns, and feel the bed move as she climbs in next to me. “Here, Smush. Have some water.” Her voice is scratchy from overuse.

I open my eyes. She’s holding out a bottle to me. I struggle up onto an elbow and take it. “What about you?”

She holds up a second bottle. “Cheers!” 

I chuckle as she taps her bottle to mine. We drink, watching one another. This is what I have missed so much the past few weeks, even more than the sex. The intensity of closeness, being the total focus of Persephone's attention. The intimacy she gives me as a matter of course, because she loves me and trusts me. It's been making me crazy, having her near me, and yet so far away. So wracked with guilt that she can't let herself go, to lose track of time in my arms, as she used to.

Tonight, though--everything we had is back. She is  _ present _ . She is giving me all of herself. I don’t know why she’s able to let go of her guilt, but I don’t stop to analyze it. I will take tonight as a final, bittersweet gift.

I finish my water bottle and Persephone takes it, setting it with hers on the nightstand. I’m still extremely turned on, and I’m getting some of my energy back. I think I have enough left in me for whatever she has in mind. I’m willing to deplete all my reserves for her.

Persephone slides over next to me, kneeling next to my ribs. She reaches out and traces the scars crossing my torso, so lightly I’m not sure I’m feeling anything. I shudder. It’s like she threw a switch, and I’m suddenly on fire, sensitized and taut. I move slowly, propping myself up on my elbows. 

“Are you ready for more?” she purrs. Her voice is low and husky. 

I’m struck with emotion, my throat tight. I am ready, but--I don't want this to end. Every moment we enjoy, we come closer to the inevitable. I can only nod, and hope she understands. She leans forward, her trailing hair tickling my shoulders and chest. Her lips brush mine, so tentative, so teasing. She builds up gradually to a slow, deep, searching kiss that leaves me feeling scoured and exposed. Can she tell what I’m thinking? Is this her answer?

She pulls back just enough to look me over, evaluating. Her smile spreads. My breath hitches as I choke down something that wants to escape. I can’t surrender to the overpowering emotions that roil deep inside me. I want to be present, in the moment, with my wife.

My hands touch her shoulders, just the fingertips, holding her in place while I skim my mouth over her jaw and neck. I suck the pulse point in her throat, one of her most sensitive spots, and she shivers violently in response. She rolls onto her side, pulling me with her, and lifts her leg over my hip to pull me in close. 

My face is drawn between her breasts as if by a magnet. My hands are on her ass, gripping, and my cock skids through her wet folds.

Persephone gasps. “Is it time for me to beg now? I will.”

“No, little goddess. You need never beg from me. Everything I have is yours.”

She smirks. She can probably think of dozens of instances when I exulted in her begging. I don’t want it now. I just want to fill her with joy, as long as I can. I rub the head of my cock over her clit. She's so wet there's a slight suction effect, and the motion makes a juicy sound. So wonderfully lewd. Persephone is writhing, helpless to the rising tide of her lust. I push her back a little, just enough to pin her with my weight, not enough to make her feel trapped.

“Oh please, please. Please!” she whimpers. 

“What did I say about begging?” I snap my hips, sheathing my cock about halfway in her luscious depths. 

“I’ll beg if I want, you can’t stop me!” She arches her back and pushes her hips against mine. “Please, Hades, more!”

I keep a tight grip on her bottom, and move in small thrusts, just teasing. “Hm, well, that  _ does _ sound more like demanding than begging. I suppose it’s acceptable.”

She lets out a plaintive little cry. “If you don’t want me begging, then you need to deliver the  _ goods. _ ”

Her mouth captures mine and her tongue twines inside. She moves it delicately, in time with my short thrusts. I groan. The tension of withholding and giving is tearing at me. I sink all the way into her hot depths, her hips molding pliantly against my body. Persephone sighs and her mouth opens, giving me access to everything. My hands move on her back and hold her close.

She rolls me over, with gentle pushes of her small hands. I don't have to obey--but I do. I would give her anything. She sits up on top of me and rolls her hips. “You feel so good inside me, Hades. I love the way you fill me up.” So soft, I can barely hear her. She cups her breasts, displaying them for me.

“Kore,” I rasp. “You're incredible.”

She smiles. “I love the way you look at me, and that thing your voice does when you're losing control.”

“I'm losing control, am I?” 

She grins wickedly and thrusts, bracing her hands on me. “You are if _ I  _ have anything to say about it!”

“We'll just  _ see  _ who's losing control, little goddess.”

Persephone leans forward willingly, her forearms on my chest, her face in kissing distance. I grip her gorgeous round ass with one hand, the other on the back of her neck. I brace my feet on the mattress and thrust up into her: deep and slow. Her nipples are like hard knots brushing over my chest. I pull her to me, suck kisses from her honeyed mouth.

She’s completely right, though. I  _ am _ losing control as I move inside her, lost in sensation, lost in her love and trust. She sucks on my tongue and I abandon every anchor but her. Only her. My hips rock and my balls throb for release.

I hold her tight and she’s whimpering. I know she isn’t asking to be let go. Her hands, her mouth, her knees clutching my hips: she’s showing me that she needs me as much as I need her. The hot embrace of her sex around my aching cock sunders me from any remaining defenses I might still have. I’m hers. I plunge wildly, utterly obedient to her demands. 

Persephone arches in my arms and cries out in sharp pleasure. I feel her sheath clutching me with powerful spasms and I offer her every last measure of my passion. I jerk inside her, grind to her pelvis. I come in a shocking burst and hear my voice keening, blending with hers. We twist together through the last few jolts of pleasure, and she collapses on my chest. 

She’s sweaty and limp, completely wrung out, my poor darling. I stroke her back. Already I feel the fear of the future crashing down on me. I’m glad at least that we managed a reprise of our former levels of delicious lovemaking. 

I want to say something, but I don’t know what. I shouldn’t do anything to detract from this moment. I’ve made a decision, the only decision I can make, but there isn’t a hurry, is there? Surely we can take a short time to be selfish, first.

Part of me wants to deny the reality--the Cornucopia  _ could  _ still reverse the trend. It could save the mortals. A greater part knows this for foolish optimism. The cold is killing them. It will claim all life, sooner or later.

I take a deep breath, Persephone on top of me rising as my chest expands. She gives a little grunt, and then a soft snore. I quiver with amusement, trying to suppress it. She should sleep all she can, and if she wants to use me as her mattress, she’s welcome to. 

Our sweat is cooling, so I pull up the sheet and blanket to cover her. I try to compose myself for sleep, but despite all I drank, the emotional whiplash, and the excellent orgasm, I don’t feel restful. All I really want to do is sob. I want to beg on my knees, plead with Persephone to stay with me, to never leave me.

I can’t.

If I ask that of her, I ask her to accept the guilt for the thousands of mortals who will die in her name. I would be asking her to live in carefree luxury with me while dancing on the graves of an entire race of thinking, feeling beings. She is a goddess of life and rebirth. To ask this of her would be to pervert her nature, to warp her into a hideous parody of herself.

I must let her go.

I must let her be what she was meant to be: a goddess of the surface, of light and flowers and warmth. Of breathing, living, joyful things: babies and butterflies and berries.

She will leave behind a legacy of change. My realm, forever touched by her delicate fingers. Made stronger, more caring and thoughtful. With Elysium as a reward for virtuous mortals, and rebirth for the deserving, and a justice system that is efficient and enlightened.

I will never forget her. I will never stop longing for her. She was mine for a short time, but she can’t be mine anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to Red for excellent beta work. You've stuck with me so long. Enormous gratitude!
> 
> Follow @VerdiWithin on Twitter for previews, updates, and sometimes art. This story has an amazing illustration by @bunnimation!


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